


In Need Of Rest

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Napping, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29116779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: Ratchet has been working non-stop for several human days, much to everyone's growing worry.So what do Grimlock and the rest of the Dinobots do? Stage an intervention, of course!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	In Need Of Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the wake of reading the latest chapter of 'The Doctor Is In' By Spoon888, which is excellent but left me like I had been punched in the gut.
> 
> I hadn't planned to post it so soon, but there has been some family drama going on lately leaving me depressed and I need something to try and cheer up.
> 
> Here's hoping you'll enjoy yourselves <3

“Grimlock! Put me down RIGHT NOW! Put me down or you’ll be getting a full axles realignment the next time you so much as step one foot in the Medbay, you hear me?! I’m **not** kidding!” Ratchet roared threateningly, sounding very much like he was going to snap and kill someone.

Okay, perhaps not _kill_ someone, per se, because ‘Healer, Do Not Harm’ was actually something Ratchet tried to adhere to even in the middle of a planet-wide war, but he wasn’t kidding about making uncooperative patients go through long, uncomfortable procedures if they dared to defy his orders or, say, _remove him from the Medbay in the middle of his work shift with so much as warning_ , especially when he had **plenty of work to do**!

Unfortunately for him, Grimlock wasn’t the type to listen to threats, be they coming from Prime, Primus himself or his own Creator. That, and any onlooker would have been forced to admit that being carried over the massive Dinobot’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes made Ratchet’s threats loss some of their bite. There was something about the medic being carried around aft in the air and pounding on the Dinobot’s back that was just comical.

Not that anyone who saw them pass by dared to comment or laugh – or worse, stop them. They didn’t trust Ratchet not to drag _them_ in for axles realignment if they so much as smile at his predicament – and they didn’t trust Grimlock (or the rest of the Dinobots, who were suspiciously absent) to try and stomp them if they tried to rescue their CMO.

Grimlock didn’t so much as flinch as Ratchet tried (unsuccessfully) to kick him. “That wasn’t very nice,” he chided, earning himself a glare that made him chuckle.

“I’ll show you not nice,” Ratchet grumbled. “Grimlock…”

“Ah, ah,” the Dinobot tutted, adjusting his grip on the medic as he stopped in front of the door of the Dinobots’ assigned quarters and entered the door’s code. “Not letting you go, Dad. You need rest, and you’re going to get it.”

Ratchet flushed. “I told you not to call me that!” he protested. “And I don’t need rest! I…”

“Have been working endlessly and barely two breaks to refuel for near two humans days, non-stop,” Grimlock said flatly. “It is more than time that you actually _rest_. I see it, Swoop sees it, Slag sees it, Sludge sees it, Snarl sees it, Mommy Wheeljack sees it, First Aid sees it and wanted to cry because you weren’t listening, _stuck-up Prowl_ sees it and _Optimus Prime_ was agonizing over staging an intervention himself right away or waiting until you were staggering. I just was faster than him,” he finished with evident self-satisfaction. He always loved to get the upper hand on Prime.

Ratchet froze as Grimlock passed the doorway. “… Am I facing a conspiration?” he asked suspiciously, trying very hard to find arguments to disprove Grimlock’s claims. He was certain he had taken a break in between reattaching Sideswipe’s arm and finishing surgery on Hound’s main fuel pump… didn’t he? Though he had gone awfully fast to assist First Aid into stabilizing Trailbreaker’s vitals… and then Jazz had hopped in the Medbay, carrying Bumblebee who had gotten shot in both knees, and there had been another row of emergency surgeries that had lasted… a very long time, come to think, but Ratchet _had_ rested. He had sat down for five kliks and grabbed a cube… and yes, maybe First Aid had looked _a bit distressed_ before he did, but it wasn’t as if Ratchet _could have stopped_ , not when there were still so many injured to put back together after their last battle against the Decepticons!

“Pretty much, yes,” Grimlock admitted. “Got him!” he clamored loudly as cheers rose in answer and Sludge came stomping in his altmode before transforming.

“Daddy!” he cooed, opening his arms wide as Grimlock chuckled and transferred his precious cargo in his brother’s arms, where Sludge was prompt to hug the Pit out of Ratchet, who flushed and coughed.

“Not so hard!” he choked. Thankfully it wasn’t Slag; the triceratops had even less control on his own strength than Sludge and Ratchet’s plating would have ended bruised, if not outright dented.

“Oh,” Sludge murmured. “Sorry; better?” he asked as he released his hold a bit – but still kept Ratchet pinned against his broader frame.

“Actually, yes,” the medic sighed, considering trying to fight and flight for a klik before discarding the idea. Sludge was looking at him with such a worried expression, and Swoop was already ducking under his brother’s arm to take a look at him, seemingly torn between happy and worried; Ratchet just didn’t have the courage to disappoint them further by fighting his way out of an (admittedly nice) hug.

No sign of Slag and Snarl from what he could see – but that didn’t meant anything, since he could hardly see past Sludge’s chest right now.

“Listen, Sludge…” he started, mulling over his words. “I need to go back,” he stated carefully. “There are still mechs who need…”

“You Ratchet not needed,” Swoop smirked, patting the shoulder of his co-Creator (for a value of the word, since neither Ratchet nor Wheeljack had ‘birthed’ them in the traditional sense, and explaining the differences between humans and Cybertronian reproduction had been an uphill battle neither the medic nor the engineer were sure to have won), earning himself a withering glare. “Him Hoist is in charge, and him First Aid said them two be enough to finish repairs. So now Ratchet can rest with Dinobots,” he grinned.

“Rest with…?” the medic started, jumping a little as he felt something brush against his shoulders. Looking over his shoulders, he saw Grimlock unfolding a _very_ large blanket It was… ugly, Ratchet decided. Full of little squares of different colors, some of which clashed with each other in a way that would have made Sunstreaker shudder. “Dare I ask where it comes from?” he asked with a put-out expression.

“Is gift from her Carly,” Sludge said happily. “Her Carly made it for us Dinobots with her Carly and a cha-ri-ty team.”

“We be sharing it,” Swoop’s head bobbled. “Her Carly promised we be getting more, but is long. Knitting be taking a lot of time,” he added as if he was imparting a big, big secret.

Oh. Oh, right, Ratchet remembered that, now. Some project of their human friends, doing ‘patchwork quilts’ for the Autobots with the help of many other humans. Ratchet hadn’t really followed what it was all about. He just knew Bumblebee had gotten one that he kept folded in the truck of his altmode and loved to drape himself in during movies nights. But his didn’t look so… colorful.

“That’s very nice of her,” he still said as he looked up at Grimlock with raised optic ridges. “Grimlock… you don’t intend to wrap me in that, do you?” he asked with dread.

The T-Rex chuckled, which was answer enough. Oh, Primus, he was going to finish wrapped like a space burrito, the medic inwardly sighed as Sludge and Grimlock worked up to wrap him in the oversized blanket. One, then twice, then thrice for good measure. Ratchet wriggled his fingers, about the only thing he could move, his arms having been neatly pinned by his sides. Only his head emerged from the fold of surprisingly soft and fluffy fabric by the time the Dinobots were done with him.

“Comfortable?” Grimlock asked.

“Would you believe me if I said ‘no’?” the medic replied sarcastically.

“Him Ratchet not like blanket?” Sludge asked worriedly, shifting from a foot to the other, making Ratchet sigh.

“It’s a very nice blanket, Sludge. Thank you for loaning it to me.” No need to make the oversized Youngling looks like a kicked turbo-puppy, annoyance at the situation or not. “And now?” he asked Swoop, only to yelp as Grimlock and Sludge lifted him up and carried him over deeper into the cave-turned-room.

“Now, him Ratchet be napping,” Swoop grinned.

“Cuddly pile!” Sludge proclaimed cheerily.

“Oh, no,” Ratchet muttered under his breath, taking sigh of the makeshift ‘nest’ the team had built on the floor; at least two layers of foam mattresses, blankets, cushions and pillows, some of them looking very battered (Ratchet suspected a pillow fight or two, and perhaps a few tug-o-wars to get the best ones). Slag, in his altmode, was curled up in a corner, optics dazed. He barely looked up at them as Sludge and Grimlock installed Ratchet in the nest, making his head lie against Slag’s flank before moving to lie on either side of the medic.

“You Slag okay?” Swoop asked, gently nuzzling his brother’s forehead with a chirp.

“Uh, uh,” the triceratops mumbled. He sounded very out of it, which made Ratchet worry and wonder wherever or not he was on painkillers. He couldn’t remember seeing Slag in the Medbay earlier, but after a while, all his patients were starting to blur together.

Unless it was his optics; as loath as he was to admit it, he _was_ starting to feel very tired now he wasn’t standing on his feet and running from a mech to the other to repairs them. The warm cocoon he was now wrapped in wasn’t helping him to stay clear-headed either, which he suspected had been the point.

“Where’s Snarl?” he asked, his voice sounding a lot weaker than he intended. Swoop snuggled next to him, playfully pushing at Grimlock to free himself a nice, tight spot in between his eldest brother and their ‘Daddy’.

“Getting us energon treats and cubes,” Grimlock replied evenly, tugging a bit on the blanket Ratchet was wrapped in to cover up his chin, much to the medic’s annoyance. “He’ll be there shortly to cuddle up with us. I asked him to get your favorites; aren’t I nice?”

“Oh, yes, you’re a very nice kidnapper,” the medic replied dryly, but his lips were tugging upward in spite of himself. “You know you’ll have to free me eventually and that I will make you pay for the indignity you just put me through, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Grimlock agreed, looking unconcerned. He had never expected otherwise. “But by then, you’ll be well-rested, well-refueled, well-relaxed and we will all be reassured about your well-being. I consider it a good trade-off for whatever you may dish out in revenge.”

“’ve been reading again, didn’t you?” Ratchet _yawned_ , blinking. Swoop buried his face in the crook of his shoulder, while Sludge passed an arm around Ratchet’s waist – or at least, close enough given the layers of patchwork quilt/fluffy prison in his way.

“Maybe I did,” Grimlock commented airily. Gently, he leaned and pressed his forehead against Ratchet’s, engines purring in contentment. He looked at the medic with fond amusement. “Sleep, Dad; you more than earned it.”

‘Not your Dad’, Ratchet wanted to reply, but his glossa felt tied. He was warm and comfy, surrounded by friendly EM fields and the sounds of engines running smoothly and soothingly and he… couldn’t… keep… his optics… online… any… m…

“Told you he’d fall asleep before Snarl got back,” Grimlock winked at Sludge, who laughed as Ratchet’s vents stuttered a bit before falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

“Him Ratchet stubborn,” Swoop let out, not onlining his own optics and laying content.

“Yeah, but us Dinobots: a lot more stubborn,” Slag drawled, yawning loudly.

“What else would you expect?” Grimlock said as he gave the triceratops a pat. “We got it from the best, after all.”

**End**


End file.
